Only in a Different Life
by Slytherclaw96
Summary: "I hate her!"   "No you don't."   "No, I love her. This is all my fault, really."  Barty Crouch Jr. was never the kind of person to let go or say goodbye. Even after years she shouted at him, he still loves her. No matter what. Romangst Challenge, HPFC.


**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter I can assure you that Sirius, Lupin, Snape and Dumbledore would be alive, Malfoy would be with Hermione and no one would have the name "Longbottom."

**Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. Don't got a beta. **

**This is for the Romangst Challenge on HPFC. My first challenge! And I think my entry's awful :D  
****Anyways, this is a pairing I recently discovered and find it very entertaining to write: Barty Crouch Jr. and Lily Evans. Enjoy the insanity!**

**Oh, and my quote was this: _I don't know! I don't know if I like you or if I just want you, or if I love you or hate you! All I know is that I really, really hate the feeling I get when I'm not around you._**

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ONLY IN A DIFFERENT LIFE

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Barty never hated his father—well, not until he was twelve. How could he when he didn't even know the man? Barty had vague, half-formed memories of a tall man with a toothbrush moustache and severe expression saying, "No, don't do that." Father was always so against the Dark Arts that sometimes Barty would get books with titles like _Secrets of the Darkest Arts_ and _The Dark Order: Rise to Power_ just to try and get his attention.

Oh, it worked—perhaps a little too well. When Mum found those books she told him, very calmly, that he should dedicate his life to better things but that she wouldn't tell Father. But, somehow, Father found out. One night when Father came home Barty was shouted at, was lectured coldly and was, accidentally, injured. The wand Father had been brandishing threateningly sent off some spell that shot him into the opposite wall and gave him a lump on the back of his head.

He slammed his bedroom door, swearing loudly and rubbing the back of his head, ignoring Father's demands to get back downstairs. That was when he swore he would never be treated like that again by a father who never wanted him, never loved him—never even _liked_ him—whatever it took, he would never be treated like that again.

That was two years ago.

In those two years he had become much more integrated and interested in a certain Slytherin clique. People like Avery, Mulciber, Wilkes, Snape and, sometimes, Regulus Black who was the only person Barty really knew before. They were, for lack of a better word, Dark—so much so that Father would've done his nut again if he saw what sort of friends Barty had.

They were planning on joining the Dark Lord. The ultimate thing to defy Father but Barty hesitated when Avery asked if he was in. Could he really go that far? Could he actually fight in a war when he was two years below Snape and one below Regulus? He knew he was smart enough and he knew he could do anything—anything at all that he set his mind to. He could. He actually could.

But lack of confidence wasn't why he hesitated.

A bubbling feeling of guilt had started somewhere in his stomach. When they had discussed Muggle-borns and blood traitors and Muggles and so forth, Barty had kept quiet, listening and doing some serious thinking instead of responding. Personally, he didn't see anything wrong with Muggle-borns but he didn't see that as a large hurtle; Snape, after all, didn't either, at least according to the Muggle-born Evans he kept hanging around.

Barty had met her once in her fourth year, his second. She had long dark red hair and furiously green eyes—very pretty, he thought, but then he blushed when she caught him looking. He met her again, two years after that. In those two years, loads had changed: Snape was no longer her friend, Potter was suddenly a lot more sombre and, apparently, a lot nicer and therefore better boyfriend material than Snape had been. Personally, Barty thought they were being quite stupid.

But one more thing had changed before he met her again: his problem with the filth being, well, _clean_ was no longer any problem.

"Barty!" she had called.

He stopped talking with Regulus. "What?" He turned around, slightly irritable for being interrupted. "Oh. Hi." He blushed. Barty was sure he heard Regulus snicker.

"Yeah, hi," Lily said hurriedly. "Um." She brushed her hair from her eyes. "You want to go to Hogsmeade with me?" she asked in a rush.

Barty blinked, too surprised to insult her. "Er—sure. Yeah, why not?"

She smiled. She always had a beautiful smile. "I'll see you November sixteenth, then." With that, she left, leaving a shell-shocked Barty and a laughing Regulus.

"Barty's got a cruuush," he sang.

"Shut it. Then I won't come to your house for Christmas!" he snapped, even though he felt a smile come to his lips. Maybe he did...

**\ \ / /**

Hogsmeade wasn't the last time Barty saw Lily. It wasn't even their last "date", even though Barty never used that word; it was Regulus who smirked and saw them as a couple after they were still together after Christmas at the Blacks.

Barty thought it was a miracle Father hadn't found out about his questionable friend choices (it was Mum he asked about spending Christmas with Regulus), and almost fainted when a letter arrived, addressed:

_Bartemius Crouch Junior_

_Slytherin Table_

_Great Hall_

_Hogwarts_

No one ever called him Bartemius, except for Father and Regulus, but he only tried that once since Barty had a new hex ready. With trembling fingers, Barty opened the letter and laughed from relief. It was short and cutting but laughable.

_Bartemius Junior,_

_I've been called to attention that you are dating a girl named Lily Evans from Gryffindor. No matter how you feel about her, she is still too old for you and I forbade you to see her again._

_Your father,_

_Bartemius Crouch Senior_

If he had read secret Dark Arts books in Father's house, there was no way he was going to stop seeing Lily. Not without a fight, at least.

"How the hell'd he find out?" asked Regulus, reading over his friend's shoulder.

"Probably Potter. Not exactly a secret he wants Lils, is it?" Barty snorted, ripping the letter to shreds.

Regulus smirked a smirk Barty hated. It was one that clearly said: _I couldn't resist._ "So, she's _Lils_ now, is she?"

"Get stuffed."

Little did Barty know that the fight would be between him and Lily, not him and Father.

**\ \ / /**

"Why do I have the habit of picking future Death Eaters as friends?" moaned Lily one day. She was pacing in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory. It was only her and Alice Williams, her best friend, who was lying on her bed with an amused expression as she watched Lily rant, pacing back and forth, her school robes swishing one way when had already turned the other.

"In my opinion, Snape wasn't just a friend, was he?" asked Alice, smiling.

"He was!" Lily blushed. She had, actually, kissed Severus once. Ironically, it was for good luck on their Defence OWL. Luck that he didn't need and a kiss he threw back in her face. Did she ever forgive him? No, she just pitied him now. "Maybe a little..."

Alice sat up, exasperated. "Listen, Lils, Barty comes from a good family; Snape came from the bad end of a Muggle town, and, according to you, his mother's maiden name is Prince. That's almost worse than Black. Snape's probably grown up with Dark Magic being his best friend—before he knew you were a witch, obviously. There's no way Crouch Senior'd let Barty get away with any funny Dark stuff. Barty probably had a You-Know-Who voodoo doll to stick pins in when he was five."

Lily let out a laugh and opened her arms, as though in surrender. "Oh, I wish. You see his friends—?"

Alice looked at her sceptically. "If you're going to judge someone based on their friends—I mean, you didn't throw away Snape because he got too friendly with Avery, did you? No, he called you a Mudblood. Anyway, Regulus Black isn't too bad. Maybe Barty just needs a—a—a _Light _friend to get him away from the rest because, clearly, the younger Black brother isn't doing anything in that area."

"Barty hates his father," said Lily, resuming her pacing. "Positively _loathes_ him. I wouldn't be surprised if he became Dark _because_ his father's so against it."

"That's a rubbish way to get back—"

"Sirius Black," howled Lily, "look at him! He's only—as you so elegantly put it—_Light_ because his family's so Dark. It's all rebellion, but Black actually believes in our side. That could happen to Barty and the Dark Side. Argh!" Lily looked like she might start pulling out her hair in frustration.

Alice, who had the same idea, stood up and held Lily's arms straight. "Hey, look at me," she said sincerely. Lily did. "Let me give you some advice: Talk—to—Barty. Got that? Talk to him."

"Genius," said Lily sarcastically.

"What're friends for?" asked Alice. "Now, it's past midnight. Will you let me sleep?"

Lily left the dormitory.

"I'll take that as a, 'Go ahead, Alice. Go back to sleep. Pretend I didn't wake you up for something other than the Quidditch Winning Party,'" said Alice, crawling back into her bed.

**\ \ / /**

Lily arrived to chaos downstairs. Immediately, she saw Potter, who smiled at her, slightly wearily as though it were a habit he couldn't break but was too tired to do anything proper. Lily doubted that, though, since he was holding a bottle of what she recognised to be Firewhiskey and with those Marauders.

There were rumours that he had an Invisibility Cloak and she was almost sure that Drunk!Potter would give it to her, even though Black would probably stop him. Pettigrew never liked her. That left Remus. He was actually very nice and Lily would never know how he fell in with such troublemakers. He was even the other Gryffindor prefect.

"Remus!" she called.

He spun around. Lily was pleased to see he didn't have a drink, although that might make it a little more difficult.

"I need to borrow James Potter's Invisibility Cloak," she said quickly, ignoring the stunned look on his face. "It's urgent."

"Can't I just cast a Disillusion Charm on you?" he asked tiredly, not even bothering to deny his friend had an Invisibility Cloak. "Prongs—James would kill me."

Lily blinked. "You can do that? We don't learn that till the end of seventh year."

"It comes in useful," he answered cagily. "Plus, Sirius taught me."

Lily hated to admit that Potter and Black, while being the two most arrogant and annoying people at Hogwarts, were also the smartest. "Sure," she said, standing back when Remus took out his wand.

He rapped it sharply on her head, without saying a word. Lily refused to be impressed. She knew the basics of a Disillusion Charm but it was still unnerving to look down and see the human chameleon. "Thanks," she said. Remus just smiled, his eyes following her as she left Gryffindor Tower.

Barty, Barty, where are you? Lily thought, as she searched the corridors. She hoped he wasn't in bed, but then again he was always outside. Something about how much he liked the night. Lily hoped that wasn't meant to be metaphorical for Darkness.

She kept her eye on Filch who, after a loud, screeching, "MEOW!" ran off from the Entrance Hall, shouting, "My sweet, did Peeves lock you in armour again?"

Lily stifled her laughter and slipped out through the front door. It was a hot summer night, like it had been since late April and persisting ever since. The air was thick and humid. She didn't have to go far to find Barty. He and a bunch of the Slytherins were outside, still in their robes, in the corner of the courtyard talking. One of them—her stomach lurched—was Severus, sitting on Barty's left. She made for them, intending to go behind Barty and tap him on the shoulder to lure him away, when she stopped dead, hearing his next words.

"—hopefully—aw, who'm I kidding?—the Dark Lord _will_ be able to get rid of all the blood traitors, Mudbloods and the rest of the filth. Make sure that Weasley clan can't ferret its way back in, they breed like gnomes! There's three down, fifty to go!"

His friends laughed loudly, but one of them, a boy with dark, curly hair and familiar arrogant features, shhhed them, throwing Barty a sympathetic look. Regulus whispered something Lily couldn't hear to Barty who instantly looked furious with himself. He controlled it, though, and laughed at whatever another one of them—Mulciber, Lily recognised—was saying.

Lily felt just as hurt as she did with Severus but she wasn't someone who'd let him get away with that. Later, she had caught _Snivellus_ with a good curse and shouted at him a bit. Barty was going to get worse; he knew better, he knew _her_. She marched right behind him and pulled his hair. Hard.

"My turn to look for the Squib," he said easily, standing up.

Lily stared, eyes wide, but he just nodded. She led them around the corner and down half-way to the odd formation of rocks that looked like Stonehenge.

"Did you do that Disillusion yourself?" he asked, amused, looking down at her. He rubbed the spot on his head where she had pulled out his hair. "That hurt, you know," he added conversationally.

"Remus did it, actually," Lily said coldly.

Barty didn't look sad or angry, like Severus had. He just nodded, his eyes cast down, resigned. "Right, then. Okay," he said absently. "Tell him he needs more practise. If Reg could see—"

"'Blood traitors, Mudbloods and the rest of the filth'?" repeated Lily viciously. "And, yes, Arthur's got four brothers and he and Molly have—!"

"That one was a joke," said Barty quietly. "Like saying that the Blacks are getting a bit unstable around the edges. You know, most pure-blood families interbreed someway but the Blacks, they're famous for it. Reg's—Regulus's parents are cousins."

Lily didn't realise she was shaking. "So 'blood traitors, Mudbloods and the rest of the filth' was serious, then, was it?"

"Not like that," he said, still looking at the ground. "Not like you think. It was, more or less—"

"More or less _what?"_ she asked, arms crossed, one hand holding her wand tight.

"More or less—m-more or less what you say when you..." he mumbled, trailing off.

"More or less _what_?" she snapped again. "Crouch!"

The use of his surname, something he hated, tripped him.

"What you say when you want to impress older years!" he almost shouted. Now that that was out, he glared at her, his brown eyes flaring. "What you say when you want them to think you're better than you are! I saw you chat up that seventh-year Ravenclaw, Scrimgeor, asking about if his uncle could recommend you for Auror training year after next—"

"That's different!" Lily shot back. "Auror training and trying to be popular among future Death Eaters—there's one hell of a lot of difference!"

His pale skin blushed slightly. "I'm not _trying_ _to be popular_"—he imitated her in a high voice, making her words sound very foolish—"I'm trying to—"

"You're trying to make your father as upset as possible, whether he knows it or not! That's what you're doing, Barty, and don't deny it," she said harshly. "That's why you got in Slytherin! That's why you stayed at the Blacks'! That's why you consider that lot"—she waved a hand at the courtyard—"your friends!"

"Two outta three," he said, maddeningly calm all of a sudden. "They aren't my friends."

"You want them to be," Lily said quickly. "You want to be a Death Eater with them."

"The only one back there that's my friend," he said a little louder, "is Regulus Black."

Lily opened her mouth, then closed it again. Barty smiled. Almost no one could make her speechless.

"So you've just been—_talking_ to a bunch of random Slytherins?"

He nodded. "Well, Regulus sort of dragged me."

"I don't care if Hagrid's pet of a giant spider dragged you," spat Lily. There had been rumours flying that Black and Potter had run into the Forest and run out, screaming about Acromantula. "Because, one way or another, you kinda-sorta believed in that pure-blood prat prejudice you were spurting. So, answer me this, if I had continued to listen or listened before, would your 'friends' have brought me up? And would you have defended me?"

Remus's spell was wearing off; she became almost translucent, like a colour ghost.

Barty looked at the ground again. "I'll be honest—"

"Good."

"—yes," he said simply. "They always do. First it was Snape, then it was me. The only one who has a friend who isn't pure-blood, or half-blood at least. Would I have defended you?" He became very awkward. "I-I-I try. I always do. I try hard, and most of the times, yeah I do—"

"Why are you staying with me?" she asked abruptly.

Barty stopped midstream, a puzzled look on his face. "What?"

She had asked Severus the same question, too, in their fourth year when he started to hang out with those sorts of Slytherins. He had just said, "Because you're my best friend," as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why are you staying with me?" Lily repeated clearly. "Do you like me, or have you gotten so used to upsetting others that your pride needs it, and you want me for my blood? Or is it the other way around and you hate me? You just want to piss _me_ off because, trust me, that's not such a good idea?" She didn't dare to hope to ask for the last one on her mind.

"You're awful at hiding your emotions," commented Barty.

"Gryffindor thing," snapped Lily. "Answer—"

"You forgot one, didn't you?" he asked, smiling slightly. He looked at the sky. "I know you too well. After hate, there's the last one, and that's love. You want to know if I love you—"

"Add that one, then, but answer the quest—!"

"I don't know, all right!" shouted Barty, taking his eyes off the stars and glaring at her again. "I don't know! I don't know if I like you or just want you, or if I love or you or hate you! All—all I know is that I really, _really_ hate the feeling when I'm not around you." He took her hand. "Snape wasn't brave enough to throw everything away for you and—I hate this, it sounds really corny—but he's regretted it ever since." He opened his mouth, but shut it, as though he changed what he wanted to say.

"You wanna know what I think I feel?" Barty asked, his voice much quieter again. "Like my stomach has turned upside down and something is flying around down there. And I get these awful pangs in my chest whenever I see you and I just somehow know it's your fault."

Lily wanted to snap at him but knew he meant well—or, at least, with his speech. Barty's ears had turned bright red; a sign he was embarrassed, the fact that he could normally control his emotions very well hit home that he was showing more than she had seen in a long time.

"I've been through the whole 'friends/boyfriend with a future Death Eater' thing and it ends, for both of us, in tears," said Lily flatly. She avoided looking at Barty's face, but knew he was stunned. "Because Death Eaters—"

"I'm not a Death Eater," he said impatiently. "Not all Slytherins are Death Eaters, just like how not all Gryffindors are perfect."

"I know that!" she snapped, thinking of Potter and Black. "I know! But there's—this'll all fall apart eventually."

"Do you plan on marrying me?" he asked suddenly, sounding very serious.

She spun away from him. "_What?"_

"The only way that this won't fall apart is if you think that I could be 'the One,'" said Barty sensibly.

The very honest answer was _No, great guy, love ya, but no..._ _Wait, WHAT?_

"I really like you, Barty. You're a great guy and—and I think—" Lily stopped. The only other boy around age that she had actually loved was Snape. Look how that turned out. But she never got to tell him. "I think you should get back to your friends," she finished.

Barty started back a few steps but then turned around. "Is this me—being dumped? Or is it me—being told that you need some think-time? I didn't mean to scare you. Personally, _I _can't imagine myself marrying you but I don't think I could marry anyone in wartime, either, so that might not count—"

"Barty?"

"Yes?"

"Stop babbling." Lily smiled. "It means that one of us seriously needs to change. Snape drove me mental with his Dark Arts and his Dark Lord. You could easily do the same. I need to know: will you change?"

Barty didn't say anything.

"_Can_ you change?"

Barty didn't say anything.

For a long time, he just stood there, wringing his hands anxiously. "I think—no, I can, I know I can, Lils. Give me some time."

"I've given you nine months," said Lily. She refused to back down. She was _not_ going to be dragged into another relationship with a Dark wizard, no matter what he was like to her.

"Are you going to dump me? _Can_ you dump me?" he asked, running his hands through his hair, and pacing, another tip of how unnerved he was: he _never_ did that. Barty turned back to her. "Because, personally, I think it's better to have someone. Even if it hurts."

"That's what I told myself every year I was friends with Snape," said Lily softly. "But I was happier without him, and I know that, if I put my mind to it, I'd be happier without you, too." Her voice grew stronger. "Because, like you said, it's very unlikely that you end up with your, to use the Muggle phrase, 'high school sweetheart', so why not end it now, if it won't grow to anything?"

"All right, yeah, I see your point," he said hastily. Barty looked her in the eye, in a way no one but he did, and added, "But... what if it does?"

Once again, Lily was speechless.

Barty grinned one of his insane grins and said, "It could. You know it could."

"You were saying," started Lily hesitantly, "that Snape wasn't willing to give up the Dark Arts. I'll give you the blatant choice I never thought to give him: Will you give them up?"

His grin fell off and he looked deadly serious. "I—yes. Yes, I could. I _will_."

Lily stared.

"Third time tonight, Lils. What's the matter, lost your dictionary?" Barty grinned again.

"Shut up," she said, but she couldn't stop smiling.

Barty grinned again and said, "You might want to wait until all the rest of us leave through the Slytherin back-door. Unless you want Filch to think you've died and come back as a tie-dye ghost."

Lily tried to stop smiling and failed horribly.

**\ \ / /**

Barty kept his word. He didn't open the books; he didn't let Regulus drag him to the little get-togethers. He ignored those Slytherins who mocked him for his not-so-secret relationship with a Muggle-born.

Lily had been fine with him keeping Regulus; he was about as hard to dislike as his brother, but without the arrogant-pratness of Sirius. Barty slowly lost his slightly prejudiced thoughts and by the day they broke up, he was completely fine.

Up until about Christmas of his fifth year, he thought it was a bit too good to be true. He waited for it to all fall apart.

It did.

March the twenty-first.

The instant Lily started shouting at him was the instant Barty knew they were caput. A lot of the year, she had been spending time with James Potter and Barty thought, stupidly, that she was cheating on him.

"Neither of you needs help studying," shouted Barty. He wasn't able to smirk or sneer, only shout, which made things that much worse: he couldn't be mean, he could only express his—er—opinions. "That's what Black keeps telling me! _Studying_!"

"We are!" said Lily. "We have NEWTs, FYI! The most important wizarding tests! If we don't pass them—well, it's bad. Very, very bad. I can't believe you don't trust me!" She had shrieked the last sentence.

Once again, they were arguing in the grounds, where less could hear in the icy wind of March. It was soon going to turn into a gale and Barty wanted to kiss and make up fast. Truthfully, he never thought she was cheating on him; he thought James Potter might be turning on the charm and then "accidentally" kiss her. He was older, a Quidditch star, top of the school—what was Barty compared to _that_?

"I do trust you! It's _him_ I don't trust! C'mon, he's been giving you the eye since third year! Even I was around for _that!_ Don't play me for a fool! You might not—"

"Trust my judgment, then. James won't do anything, unless I make the first move." She crossed her arms. With the wind blowing her red hair around, she looked quite scary.

The fact she called him "James" hurt but Barty didn't show it. "I've given up my—my—" Barty scrambled for words. "—my Dark acquaintances! My second love! The Dark Arts! Give up the study-buddy you don't need—for me!" howled Barty. "I love you—but can you say it?"

Again, Barty demonstrated his talent of making Lily Evans speechless.

"What?"

"I love you!" he shouted to the wind, spinning back to her. "But you've been drifting away. I feel like you're just a friend now."

Lily took a deep breath and regretted it as soon as the wind cut into her. One corner of Barty's mouth twitched. "You _are_ just a friend."

He felt tears behind his eyes but he refused to let them out. "Lils—"

"Don't 'Lils' me," she said dangerously.

"Lily," he started again, stunned. But then a cold tone entered his voice, one he hadn't used for a long time. "If you want to dump me, then fine, do it. But have the decency to not pretend you were anything less than my girlfriend at one point."

"Yeah, I was," she said grudgingly. "But I don't want to be anymore."

"If it's Potter—" snarled Barty.

"Then it's none of your business," finished Lily sanctimoniously.

"Don't go all 'holier-than-thou' on _me_," he snapped. "You want to be 'just friends'?" he demanded.

"Hallelujah, you finally got it!" she shouted sarcastically at him.

"How would that work? We've never only been 'just friends'!" yelled Barty. "You jumped from someone I met once, to my girlfriend in one day!"

"Then forget about me! I couldn't care less!"

"LIAR!" roared Barty. "If you didn't care, you wouldn't be here with me, screaming louder than this blood wind!"

"I HATE YOU! THAT'S A SORT OF CARING, ISN'T IT?"

Barty froze, feeling the tears come. "Lily, please—"

"You're worse than Snape!" she said, her voice a little quieter but a venom entered. "You lot—you're all addicted to the Dark Arts and Dark Magic. You _can't _give it up, even if you wanted to! Goodbye!"

She bent against the wind and started to make her way back to the castle.

Barty wiped his tears and just stood there, staring at the spot Lily Evans had just left. And that was where Regulus found him after dinner.

**\ \ / /**

"Shouldn't I have been a bit kinder?" Lily asked the only person she thought was impartial.

"Don't listen to me," said Alice, hands raised. "I was the one who told you to stay with him. Ask Sirius or James—even Remus'll tell you that you did the right thing." She bent over her Charms homework and tried to scribble the meaning and use of the _Aquamenti_ Charm. Alice was horrible at Charms.

"I want the honest thing!" snapped Lily. "I want someone to tell me what was the best thing for—"

"In my opinion, you just made the biggest mistake since you threw away Snape," said Alice, smiling slightly at the horrified expression on Lily's face. "But Frank thinks you should stay the hell away, his words, not mine, and that Barty's a no good, Dark-Arts-loving Death Eater wannabe and that you should've been harsher."

Lily nodded and left the common room. "With the way Frank and Sirius have gone through girls, I guess he knows best," she called behind her.

"Where're you going?" asked Alice eagerly, following Lily out. "To talk to Barty? I can keep the Marauders and Frank busy."

"No," snorted Lily. "I'm going to study for the Herbology NEWT. You wanna come?"

Alice sighed. "Yeah, sure. I think you're making a mistake, though."

**\ \ / /**

It took him a month to fall into his old habits. Barty ignored Lily and she was pleased to do the same. Her and Potter started to see each other publically, something Barty and her had always tried to avoid. The first time Barty saw them together in the Great Hall while everyone was studying, they were holding hands and laughing, he knocked over his ink bottle and didn't bother to clean it up.

Barty was always great at putting on a mask, at pretending, so the only person who knew that he was actually dying inside was Regulus.

"I hate her, I hate her, I hate her!" chanted Barty one day, running his hands over his already messy hair.

They were in the Slytherin boys' dormitory for fifth years. No one but Barty and Regulus were there. Regulus was on another's bed, apparently absorbed in some book he picked up but his eyes weren't moving across the page.

"No, you don't," he said easily.

"No, I—love her," Barty admitted, falling on his own bed. "This is all my fault, really. And I'd appreciate it if you would put that bloody book down; I'm miserable here!"

"Go talk to her," said Regulus, keeping the book in front of his face.

Barty considered it. He was never brave. He wasn't Gryffindor. He had a pride larger than Texas. He couldn't admit he was wrong. Not when Lily wasn't even guaranteed to accept any sort of apology. It had been months and the seventh-years were taking their NEWTs, Barty taking his OWLs. He hated them. He had to use a Time-Turner to take all the lessons at once—a last final plea for both Father and Lils to notice him. He knew he'd be getting twelve OWLs, though.

He stood up and wrenched the book from Regulus, looking at the title. "You, of all people, don't need to study for Transfiguration. I need you to do your duty as best friend!"

Irritable, Regulus sat up. "All right: go talk to Lily, apologise, and punch Potter in the face for good measure."

"I can't punch her new boyfriend," said Barty, sitting down and hitting himself on the head with the book. "Why'm I such a complete arse, Reg?" he said desperately.

"Tell her how much she still means to you, then," said Regulus, more seriously, eyeing his book as though it had done him a great personal injury by allowing itself to be taken from him.

"I can't wreck her life," said Barty, collapsing on his bed again and staring at the ceiling. "Again," he added. He had seen her crying more than once during the week following their screaming match. "She's happy now," he said miserably. "I can't mess that up. This time she has found _'the One'!"_

"You thought it was going to be you," said Regulus from somewhere to his right.

"Maybe I was being young and stupid," muttered Barty, feeling tears come again. He had never cried and somehow he was managing to do it twice in one year. "But, yeah, I did. I still do."

"You miss her." It wasn't a question and Barty thanked God that it wasn't: it would've just proved his best friend knew nothing about him.

"'Course I do. I don't think that'll go away."

**\ \ / /**

It didn't. Over the years that followed, Lily became an Auror, like she begged Scrimgeor to, and Barty became deeply immersed in the Dark Arts. He wasn't quite sure when he lost his mind but he would've bet it was sometime in March of his fifth year.

He became a Death Eater—one of the most faithful the Dark Lord ever had. He didn't know who he was imagining when he was killing (Father or Lily), he just knew that it gave him a rush that Lily's kisses always used to.

He never received an invitation to the Potter-Evans wedding and was elated at that; he didn't think he could stop himself from taking Regulus's old advice and punching Potter. But he did plan on writing a letter.

_To my most hated Lily,_

_Yeah, you had me. You honestly had me—every part of me. I would've—and did on one memorable occasion—given you everything I had. But you walked away from me, and I took it all back. Now you can't ever have me again and, clearly, you don't want me._

_Those two years without you I loved. It was the same as before: Dark Arts, Dark Lord, Death Eaters and discussion. Lots of D's, I know. Regulus never thought I got over you and, not so surprisingly, was right. Those two years gave me an odd, hollow-feeling, as though I were missing something. I realised, as I graduated, that it was longing. I was missing you and what we could've been._

_When you shouted, "Goodbye!" I felt as though I would break in a million pieces. I did later, actually: Regulus found me hours later in the same spot, frostbite all over my face. I never said goodbye to you and I don't know if I regret that or if I'm glad I never did. See, I don't like to lie and telling you goodbye would feel like a lie. I wasn't ready to say goodbye then and I'm still not ready to now—I don't know if I'll ever be able to._

_I can't stop thinking what would have happened if you hadn't walked away, if I'd been brave enough to swallow my pride and tell you that I was sorry because _that_ wouldn't have been a lie: that would've been the truth. Just ask Regulus. But, really, I caught those looks you were giving me during your last year, almost like you regretted it. I wanted to tell you that I loved you, that you were a miserable bit of filth and could never have me back. So, on second thought, what would have happened if we really _had_ given up on each other, since we never really did, did we?_

_Even, I, proud, oh-so-evil Death Eater, haven't given up. (That was sarcastic, the oh-so-evil part. I don't think I'm _that_ bad.) Not really. I still half-expect you to come bursting through my door one day._

_Remember our first argument? I asked you about the most sought after person: The One. No, not Neo, the man every girl dreams of. You had three possible candidates and I think you chose wrong. James Potter did a hell of a lot of growing up for you. Severus Snape tried to impress you with his "awesome Dark Arts power." But I never did anything; I was honest. _

_Only in a different life, huh?_

_You won't see me again and if you do, you'll rather wish you didn't: when I meet you next, it'll most likely be in a duel and, unless you Apparate with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, I'll most likely kill you._

_There's something I'm going to do soon, and I don't think you'd ever talk to be again—if we were talking, that is—if you knew. I obviously can't tell you what it is but you'll never forgive me for it. I actually don't know what it is but when you serve the Dark Lord, there aren't many things I do that I think you would or even could forgive me for._

_So, I'm only a little sorry about messing up your wedding day with this. Only a little because I know you'll be happy, that you think you're marrying the man of your dreams. Now, I don't doubt you dream about Potter—you used to tell me all your nightmares—but that's just an expression. _

_But, honestly, seriously and sincerely, I think we could have worked. Only in a different life._

_The One,_

_The only,_

_Barty Jr. _

Of course, though, that had to be the moment Bellatrix walked in his room. He, and many other Death Eaters, was rooming at Malfoy Manor, to Narcissa's and the house-elf's displeasure. Bellatrix had been training him; Barty almost became her apprentice.

"What're you doing?" she snapped.

Barty stood up and hid the letter behind his back, messing the fresh ink. "Nothing." He began tearing it to pieces. "I'll be down in a second. Tell your dear brother-in-law that I'm almost finished."

"Fine."

Barty looked at the letter. It was unsendable, but he had to leave anyways. He wished he could've sent it.

He wished she knew.

**\ \ / /**

**I think it's a little overdone but I don't think I did too bad a job on it. Did I? Tell me what you think!**


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